


It's Alright I Know It's Right

by DelphinaBoswell



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys Kissing, Episode: s03e13 Grad Night, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21647329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelphinaBoswell/pseuds/DelphinaBoswell
Summary: The kiss from Grad Night. Except different.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 36
Kudos: 200





	It's Alright I Know It's Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olivebranchesandredwine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/gifts).



> We were talking about kissing and I got to thinking, what if it went a little differently. 
> 
> Title from Fleetwood Mac's Songbird.

Patrick was nervous, his hands were clammy and he felt sick to his stomach. As they left the cafe, he was only half listening to David's story about how a drunken Moira had fallen into their pool at his 21st birthday party, wearing her favourite pieces from the Yamamoto 2004 Spring show in Paris, and how the enormous hat had prevented her surfacing and that she'd almost drowned until David Hasslehof had dived in fully clothed and pulled her out. 

Patrick was still wondering David knew this was a date. _'Stevie knew,'_ he thought. _'She definitely knew'_. Yeah, he was pretty confident about that. Then Stevie had left and after 8 seconds of awkward, dinner had been fun and they'd fallen into their usual teasing flirty back and forth. But.

But he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to play footsie with David or to hold eye contact for that extra second or to let their fingers brush against each other when the were both reaching for the Mozzarella sticks. Did David still think it was just a friendly dinner? David hadn't checked his phone all evening, so even if Steve had texted him to tell him otherwise, he hadn't read the text. Patrick needed David to be in no doubt. He wasn't sure he could go through this again and so the knowledge that he'd have to do something definitive, something unambiguous and absolute, was well...well, it was making him nauseous. 

He'd parked around the corner from the cafe and as they turned down the moonlit street, he realised he was walking on alone. Looking back, he saw David had stopped three paces behind him.

"Okay, so I've told that story 50 times," David said, his hands beginning the complicated freestyle routine that—Patrick recognised—usually accompanied David's more anxious moments. "It's always been guaranteed to make people laugh. This is the first time it's absolutely failed to raise even a smile and so I'm wondering..." David drew a shaky breath and lowered his arms. "Well," he said, softer now. "I know it's a good story…so...is there something wrong Patrick?"

Patrick felt his heartbeat slow, felt his shoulders relax, felt a bubble of joy begin to dance in his belly as he realised that his worldly, sophisticated, vastly more experienced business partner was just as nervous as him, and that maybe this thing, this _connection_ that Patrick thought, hoped, that they had...that this connection was there for David too.

"No, no, nothing's wrong. I just um, well I uh...I got ah a little scared there for a second." 

"Scared?" David's mouth began fighting a rearguard action as a smile threatened to break through its defences. "It's 9:30 on a Friday night and we're standing in the middle of what is probably the safest town in North America and you're scared? Am I scaring you?" 

Patrick was grinning now, his cheeks aching with it. He walked back to David, whose dimples marched triumphantly up his cheeks as his mouth gave up the good fight and curled into a smile. 

"You don't scare me David" he said steadily.

"Well what then?" David was still smiling. "Tell me Patrick!"

If his eyebrows go any higher they'll need oxygen, Patrick thought wildly.

He blew out a breath. "I was scared," he began quietly. "Because I uh, I needed to know if you knew—"

"What?" David's hands were starting their routine all over again. "Knew what!" Patrick reached out and put his hand on David's arm, stilling it

Patrick could feel the softness of David's sweater underneath his fingertips. He looked as he moved his hand up a little, before sliding it down, down, until he felt the smooth skin of David's hand. His stomach twisted as he folded his fingers around David's and this thing, this small thing - their skin touching, their fingers wrapped together - was the most sensual experience of Patrick's life. The blood roared in his ears and he felt the tension ratchet up again. 

Oh," said David faintly. "Alright"

Patrick looked up, nervous again. "Is this—?" he asked.

David's head began to bounce and sway like a drunk in a bar, trying out various moves before settling into an exuberant nod. 

"It's very okay," whispered David. "Um...are you still scared?"

Patrick was smiling again, he couldn't help it. His mouth turned upwards instinctively when he was around David, like a flower seeking out the sun. "I'm absolutely terrified," he confessed.

David was beautiful in the moonlight. The planes of his face were silvery pale, his dark eyes sparkled as he watched Patrick and Patrick's smile faltered as he gazed and gazed at him. Unable to move, unable to even tear his eyes away, he could feel his face going hot and his heart rate kicking up. David licked his lips and Patrick couldn't help but glance and David leaned forward and kissed him then, a simple press of mouth on mouth, brief and austere. David moved back and they looked at each other again, before something snapped in Patrick. 

He stumbled backwards into the wall of the cafe, tugging David with him. As his free hand came up to grab David's shoulder, David's hand cupped Patrick's neck and pulled their mouths together. They kissed chastely, once, twice, three times, then David's tongue brushed his bottom lip and Patrick heard himself make a high needy whine. He opened his mouth a little, the tips of their tongues touched and as David's fingers tightened in Patrick's hair, Patrick softly licked his way into his mouth. David moaned then and their tongues danced together and it was as perfect a thing as Patrick had ever known. Perfect like 6 and 8128, and lazy Sunday afternoons watching baseball. Like picnics by the river, and the way the bridge comes back to the verse in Here, There and Everywhere, the first ice of the season and a cold beer on a sticky day. And now David. David with his mouth and his tongue. The taste of him, his smell, his eyes and voice, the feel of his stubble and those rings, so cool on Patrick's neck. His hands, his elegant fingers still locked around Patrick's, his shoulder underneath Patrick's hand, his chest, broad and unquestionably male pressing Patrick into the wall.

Their kisses gradually slowed and turned back into a restrained and gentle push of lips before David pulled away to drop his head onto Patrick's shoulder and Patrick turned his head a little to nuzzle into David's hair. They were both still breathing hard and they rested there together until eventually, Patrick felt David uncurl his fingers from his hair and he took his own hand from David's shoulder. Their other hands were still clasped together and David lifted them to his mouth and dropped a kiss to Patrick's knuckles.

Patrick pushed himself off the wall. "C'mon," he said as they started walking to his car. "I'll take you back to the motel. There's something I want to tell you."

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, thanks to all my Buddies, the most supportive group of people I have ever known.


End file.
